


Switcheroo

by orphan_account



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Anal Sex, M/M, Shameless Smut, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-09-03
Updated: 2014-09-03
Packaged: 2018-02-15 23:41:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,502
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2247729
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>England screws up one of his spells. The end result is rather... interesting...</p><p>If this wasn't a birthday present to a friend I would have deleted it by now</p>
            </blockquote>





	Switcheroo

**Author's Note:**

> This is actually an early birthday present to one of my best friends. So yeah.

“Bloody frog,” Arthur muttered angrily as he stormed off to his basement.

“… goes around thinking he can just shag complete strangers in my bedroom, of all places. I’ll show that wanker this time…” He slammed the door behind him and grabbed the spell book from the rickety old table. Flipping it open to a random page, he recited the seemingly nonsensical chant three times and immediately threw the book across the room.

Everything started fading slowly, dancing sparks filling Arthur’s peripheral vision.

“Oh, dear…” he mumbled as he fell to the floor, unconscious.

——————————

Arthur’s eyes fluttered open softly. The satin sheets encasing his body gently caressed his bare skin, as though it was fabricated from whispered promises and sweet memories.

Wait a minute.

Hadn’t he been…

It couldn’t be.

Arthur darted out from under the covers and took in his surroundings: a Shy’m album on the nightstand, a small white bird in a cage by the window, a figurine of the Eiffel Tower…

He was in France’s room!

“Bloody hell,” he cursed under his breath. A quick check showed no signs of being taken advantage of the previous night, but still, something felt… off.

“Christ, I even smell like him! When I get my hands on him, I swear I’ll-” he growled to no one in particular as he made his way into France’s bathroom, but the sight of himself in the mirror stopped him in his tracks.

“My god…” Arthur breathed as he studied his reflection- or, more accurately, Francis’s. His jaw dropped in shock as the events of the previous night flooded his mind.

He had discovered the frog in his bed with some girl he’d probably never met before. After kicking them out, he went to his basement to cast a spell on Francis, but he had just chosen a random one and hadn’t read over its effects before using it.

Arthur mentally cursed himself for his reckless behavior, but as his gaze trailed down the mirror, a small voice trapped in the back of his mind told him to enjoy this while it lasted. He quickly shoved that thought away, along with various scenarios playing in his head.

‘I can’t let him win, not after everything he’s done. I have to reverse this. Now.’

——————————

The first thing Francis noticed when he awoke was the ceiling. It was black. That in and of itself was odd, but when he noticed the scent, he knew something was going on. The smell of smoke filled the air, but it was infused with a trace of lavender.

It didn’t take quite as much effort to lift himself to his feet as it usually would. He felt lighter, as if he had set down something he had been carrying on his back for miles. He stumbled around the room for a few minutes in an attempt to grow accustomed to this new airy feeling.

As he spun around, a faint purple glow from the center of the room caught his attention and he stopped, inching over cautiously to see what it was. The image of a Satanic pentagram drove him to even further depths of confusion and terror.

“Where the hell am I?” Francis wondered aloud. “Have I been sleepwalking?” He pressed the back of his hand against his forehead to check for a fever; it was met with a coarse substance that made him fall to his knees in grief.

“England cursed me! He gave me his bloody eyebrows!” There was a long pause, and then:

“Did I just say ‘bloody?’ Wait, my voice… I sound English!” He searched desperately for an exit, and when he found it, burst out of the stuffy room to find himself in England’s house.

“But this is impossible!” He ran to the nearest reflective surface and immediately began to examine his image. Although he couldn’t make out the more subtle features, the bushy eyebrows and disheveled blond hair were enough to confirm his suspicions.

Francis’s initial panic suddenly flourished into inspiration, his imagination running wild with the possibilities.

“Ohonhon,” he chuckled softly. “This is going to be fun.”

——————————

“Stupid French cars,” Arthur cursed. He had given up on restraining his anger about half an hour before, and letting loose felt so much better.

He pulled into his driveway at the speed of light, slamming the car door and sprinting into his house as quickly as he could. There was a high-pitched shriek as the sound of shattering glass rang throughout the hall.

After a few moments, Arthur had calmed down enough to take in the scene before him. Fragments of what he concluded had once been a shot glass were strewn across the floor, which was now soaked with an amber liquid. His body- which he assumed was being inhabited by France- was pressed into the corner, shaking and looking up at Arthur in fright.

“That’s Francis in there, right?” he asked as he approached cautiously. Arthur watched his own head nod yes, sighing as he reached to help the other stand.

“What were you doing?”

“I found some whiskey on display in your dining room and I decided to try some,” Francis confessed. “It tastes like shit.” That made Arthur chuckle slightly, and he turned his head to disguise it as a cough.

‘You can’t let him know…’ he reminded himself, although deep down he wanted it more than anything.

“I was casting a spell last night and something went wrong,” he explained. “I don’t know exactly what I did, so I’ll need to do some research on how to reverse it. Why don’t you clean up this mess while I try to fix this?” God, it was weird seeing himself through someone else’s eyes.

Francis nodded affirmatively, and Arthur turned to the basement.

‘What the hell have I gotten myself into this time?’

——————————

Francis wiped his- or, more accurately, Arthur’s- brow with his sleeve as he threw away the last few shards of glass with his other hand. It had been half an hour since the Briton had disappeared into the basement in Francis’ form, and he still hadn’t returned.

“I bet I could have a lot of fun with this…” He spoke slowly, savoring the taste of Arthur’s unfamiliar mouth. Oh, how he had longed to know what it was like! How he had dreamed of exploring this body, of tracing every curve and crevice of this lithe frame. But now… now the possibilities were endless!

Francis sauntered into Arthur’s bedroom, slowly releasing himself from now uncomfortably tight jeans as he dug around in the top drawer of the nightstand.

“Perfect,” he murmured. He lowered himself onto the bed and let desire take over.

——————————

“Oh, that’s rich,” Arthur muttered sarcastically, slamming the spell book on the feeble old table with a thud. He stormed back into the main area, but Francis was nowhere to be seen.

“He’s probably snooping around in my bedchamber. Pervy twat,” he thought aloud as he stomped over to the door. It was closed. Hadn’t he left it open? It probably didn’t mean anything, Arthur assured himself.

“So, apparently there’s no way to undo the curse, but after a day it should reverse itself. All we can do it wa-” Arthur started as he barged into the room, but stopped in his tracks at what awaited him.

His body- HIS- lay spread-eagled on the bed, stark naked, with two fingers on his right hand up his ass while the left expertly stroked his cock.

“What the hell are you doing with my body, frog?!” Francis stopped instantly. His head popped up like a meerkat, slowly removing the fingers from his hole as he stared at his own form standing in the doorway.

“Ah, I see you have caught me, Angleterre. Would you care to join in? It would certainly make my job easier.”   

“Y- I mean NO! I leave you unattended with my body for forty-five minutes- NOT EVEN AN HOUR!- and this is what you do! How can I ever trust you if-” Furious lips against his cut him short. Francis pushed into his own mouth with Arthur’s tongue and immediately began sucking and biting lightly.

Large hands shoved him away, and he fell back onto the bed.

“What the hell is wrong with you? I don’t want to do this with you, frog!” Arthur glared down at his own face harshly.

“Your lips say one thing, but your body says another, my dear,” Francis teased, gesturing to the tent in the other man’s pants. Arthur blushed.

“Th-that doesn’t mean anything!”

“Are you sure?” He pushed himself off the bed, making his way over to where his own figure stood, and brushed his palm against Arthur’s painful arousal.

“A-ah,” he gasped. Francis took the opportunity to press his tongue back into Arthur’s mouth. He was met with no resistance this time around, which he took to mean ‘continue’. Slowly, he guided the Englishman to the bed and lowered him onto his back. The kiss was broken, a tragic yet necessary sacrifice by Francis in order to unbutton the other man’s shirt.

Arthur emitted a needy whine, although it quickly changed into a moan as that talented mouth latched onto his nipple.

“Oh, god!” he cried out, watching the entire time as Francis nipped and sucked the sensitive area. It was odd watching himself do this to, well, himself. It felt so wrong, and yet, it somehow turned him on even more.

Arthur’s own face looked up at him deviously as his jeans were unzipped, pulled down along with his boxers in one swift motion. Francis swirled his tongue around the tip before dipping into the slit, a self-satisfied smirk resting on his face until Arthur bucked his hips, forcing the entire length down Francis’s throat.

‘Jesus! When I told them I was huge, I didn’t know how true it was,’ he thought as he forced himself not to gag. He waited for a minute to regain his composure before beginning to bob his head up and down.

“Oh g-god,” Arthur moaned in Francis’s voice as he thrust as deep into his throat as possible.

“Shit, I’m gonna-” There was an audible pop as Francis released his own cock from Arthur’s mouth- just the thought of it drove his arousal to even greater heights- and reached for the container of lube he had discarded earlier. He coated his fingers thoroughly, taking far too long just to drive his lover mad.

“Come on,” Arthur whined, spreading his legs eagerly.

“Patience, my darling.” Francis’s grin widened as he leaned over his own writhing form, tracing his own entrance with someone else’s finger.

The Briton pushed his hips down in a failed attempt to get something, anything inside him.

“Stop being such a tease,” he spat impatiently, scowling at himself from across the bed.

“Alright, if you insist.” Francis complied teasingly, pushing his index finger into the tight entrance until it reached the first knuckle.

“Like this?” The death glare shot in his direction told him he was doing it wrong.

“How about this?” he asked again, suddenly shoving his entire finger in and causing Arthur to scream.

“Oh, that sounded painful. Perhaps I shouldn’t-”

“Don’t you dare, frog.”

“As you wish.” The finger was pulled back out until only the tip remained, and a second joined it. Arthur hissed as they scissored, thoroughly stretching him, before a third finger was added.

Francis thrust his fingers in as deep as possible, searching for that one spot that-

“BLOODY HELL!”

There it was. He brushed over it lightly, not enough to make his lover see stars. No, that was for later. Until then, he kept pushing his fingers in and out, each time hitting the sweet spot a bit harder.

“Francis, please… I need- ah!- I need you inside me!”

He looked down at his- or Arthur’s, he didn’t know anymore- swollen member, dripping with precum. In his desire to please the other man, Francis had almost forgotten his own arousal. He dug around in the mass of blankets to find the lube again and coated himself, taking a bit too long again for the sole purpose of pissing Arthur off.

“Get a move on, wanker, I don’t have all day.” Francis had to choke back a giggle at how weird the Briton’s usual insults sounded in his own voice.

He placed the tip of his cock at the stretched entrance, gently pushing the head in. Arthur dug his nails into his palms and bit his tongue as the length of the member slid inside him.

“Can I move?”

Arthur nodded yes, looking into his own green eyes and seeing Francis’s reflection.

‘You had one job,’ he scolded himself internally, but that was forgotten as Francis pulled out of him until only the head was left and then slammed back in. Arthur gritted his teeth to hold back his moans.

“Let me hear you,” Francis breathed as he continued to thrust.

A cacophony of grunts and sighs filled the air, mostly from Arthur. He looked down and saw himself pushing into him. It shouldn’t have been so arousing, but for some reason, that made it even hotter.

Suddenly, Francis thrust in just the right angle and hit that one spot dead on. Arthur bit down on his shoulder to muffle his scream, the taste of blood filling his mouth as Francis pulled out completely.

“What are you doing, idiot?”

“I told you to let it all out, but you held back the best part.”

“You can’t stop now!” Francis turned around, a devilish glint in those green eyes.

“Beg.”

“Please, Francis.”

“You’ll have to do better than that,” he teased, dragging Arthur’s wicked tongue along the cleft of his own ass. The Englishman shivered and gasped.

“I want you to fuck me so that I can’t walk properly for days, I want to see fireworks, I want you to fill me until I can’t take it anymore! For the love of god, just get inside me!”

Francis chuckled. “I want to hear all of your beautiful noises,” he whispered as he sheathed his entire length in his lover’s hole.

“Francis!” Arthur screamed, grinding against the cock and moaning loudly as his prostate was hit with each thrust. Arthur’s vision went white, and he lost control of his words as he pushed his hips back to meet with every thrust.

“Oh, god, Francis!” he howled as he came, spilling himself onto the bed.

The throbbing hole tightening around him was too much for Francis to take, and he came soon after, filling his own hole with Arthur’s seed. He continued to thrust shallowly, milking his orgasm for as long as he could before he pulled out slowly and collapsed next to his lover.

“That was… amazing…” he murmured. Arthur nodded in agreement as his eyelids drooped dangerously low, and before long, he was asleep. Francis pressed himself against Arthur’s warm chest, lulling himself into a dream as well.

The clock read four P.M.


End file.
